


Scott & Tessa’s Eggcellent Adventure

by Walkinrobe



Series: So Dramatic [40]
Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: F/M, Sparkling Moments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:14:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24089479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Walkinrobe/pseuds/Walkinrobe
Summary: Scott and Tessa fuck up Easter.But then Scott and Tessa save Easter.It’s a fucking-almost catastrophe.
Relationships: Scott Moir/Tessa Virtue
Series: So Dramatic [40]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1315028
Comments: 21
Kudos: 75





	Scott & Tessa’s Eggcellent Adventure

**Author's Note:**

> 65 million years ago... Boo made the excellent suggestion that we draft some happy stories. So, well before Easter I started this fic. Then COVID-19 happened. And so much work, so, so, so much work happened too.  
> Finally, I’m done.  
> Keep well, my friends.

The afternoon sun is nice. 

It’s Thursday afternoon, immediately before the Easter long weekend. The weather has been changeable over the past fortnight. But not today. Today the sky is sparkling and it’s perfect conditions for jeans and a t-shirt. Four days of relaxation stretches out before Tessa and her people - long awaited plans with friends and family. 

And chocolate.

It’s slow afternoons like this that bring a happy hum to the Virtue Moir household. The older boys, Tom and James, are perfecting their pool game in the basement. Nine year-old Oliver has spent the past hour playing basketball on the driveway with Scott. Ashlynn had spent the last little while decorating cookies at the kitchen table but she’s currently dragging Tom’s old bike out of the garage with the intention of giving her parents a few more grey hairs.

‘Ashlynn Amy, please be careful on that bike, it’s too big for you,’ she warns from where she’s sitting on the front porch.

‘You’re overthinking it Mom,’ seven year-old Ashlynn calls over her shoulder, she skips along before climbing up Tom’s bike, gives a heart stopping wobble then begins to glide around in slow circles. 

‘Dem be fightin’ words from the kid who fell off that bike yesterday. She skinned both her knees and flew into the house in a puddle of tears,’ Scott says through his smile. He sits on the step below her and passes over a bottle of water. She’s glad he’s out here with her. They haven’t spent more than five minutes together all day. It’s nice to have him by her side. She looks at him in the soft sunlight and her mind immediately goes to one place, a familiar place: he is still the most handsome man she knows. 

‘I swear, Ashy ended up with all of our worst qualities,’ she muses, ‘the poor kid’.

‘Speak for yourself,’ Scott scoffs good naturedly, ‘I think she has the perfect combination of grit and resilience. She’s a firecracker’.

‘I suppose you’re right,’ she reaches down to kiss his mouth. ‘Three older brothers and half your genes. The odds were always stacked against her’.

Their attention is suddenly drawn towards the driveway. Tom’s bike clatters to the floor and a sweet sounding but exasperated ‘For fuck’s sake’ leaves Ash’s mouth.

They share a look of amused outrage before collapsing in a fit of laughter. She’d like to say this is the first time Ashy has dropped the F-bomb. It is not. Not by a long shot. She thinks the exact same thing she does every time Ashlynn swears: if Kate was still here she’d be horrified. 

‘I’m OK,’ Ashlynn assures them while she untangles her self from the carnage, ‘but this old bike is a piece of crap’.

‘Ashlynn! Language!’ Scott chastises.

‘You’re overthinking that too, Dad,’ she sasses back to her father. 

Scott turns to her and gives a silent ‘we gotta stop this kid from speaking like a trucker’ look.

‘She definitely gets the profanity gene from you,’ Scott quips. 

*

Easter Saturday afternoon is spent sprawled out in their backyard, the BBQ going non-stop, a herd of kids alternating between intense games of volleyball and hockey.

‘How good is it that everyone’s out of the ‘little kid’ stage,’ she overhears Scott say to Nick and Justin as she walks over to Mel and PJ.

‘Buddy, the only ones that’ve been in the ‘little kid stage’ these past ten years are you and Tess,’ snorts Nick.

‘Mostly because you’re shitty at understanding the mechanics of contraception,’ adds Justin.

She fleetingly wants to defend themselves against Justin’s claim. They absolutely do understand the mechanics of contraception. It just didn’t work for them. On two occasions. 

She sighs to herself as she sits down next to Mel at the patio table, resting her head on PJ’s shoulder. These two best friends of hers, she loves them to the moon and back. 

‘What’s up Buttercup?’ PJ smiles.

‘Nothing. Things are good. Just kinda missing my Mom. I always do on the holidays,’ she responds. 

‘That’s understandable,’ Mel rubs her back, ‘we all do’.

They sit in comfortable silence for a moment until Ash runs up to them and climbs onto her lap.

‘What happened to your knees Miss Ash?’ Mel asks, taking Ashlynn’s ankles and extending out both legs so she can get a better look at her wounds. Ouch, she didn’t realise Ashy had regrazed her knees when she fell off Tom’s bike again.

‘Nothing much. Fell off a bike. The bike is a piece of crap’.

Mel and PJ straighten in their chairs, trying to suppress giggles.

‘Ashlynn Moir, we have already spoken to you about this. You can choose better words to describe the bike. I’m not getting dragged up to school again because you have the vocabulary of a sweaty sailor,’ she tells her daughter very firmly. 

Ash groans, ‘Moooooooom, they’re just such good words. It really feels like I’m making my case when I use them’.

‘I mean, Ash has a point,’ PJ offers, ‘sometimes they are helpful words. 

‘Tell them whose bike,’ she prompts her daughter, expertly changing the subject. PJ can be the queen of cheek. And Ash needs no encouragement to hone her cheekiness skills.

‘Tom’s old bike,’ Ash mumbles. 

‘Be careful, my angel,’ Mel warns, ‘you need those knees for your skating. Mom says you’re getting pretty good these days’.

‘I will be,’ Ash shrugs again, ‘I’m OK. Dad is helping my with my skating and he said we’ll tape my knees carefully’. 

Ash snuggles into her side and is quiet for a minute before sitting up with start, ‘Mommy! Are we going to have the Easter Egg Hunt soon?’

‘Oh. Shoot!’ she states. ‘Thanks for reminding me, baby. I’ll organise that right now’. Ashlynn jumps off her lap and runs over to join the bigger kids at volleyball. 

‘Shoot?’ PJ and Mel asks in tandem.

‘As you heard, we have a major f-bomb problem with Ash. I’m trying not to be such a shitshow of a mother’. 

‘Good luck with that,’ PJ teases.

‘Fuck you very much,’ she retorts, kissing PJ on the cheek before she leaves to corral Scott into helping her arrange their traditional Easter Saturday egg hunt. 

*

‘Hey, here’s my girl,’ Scott slinks his arm around his wife as she joins him at the BBQ. Tess kisses his mouth in her usual way, once each side of his mouth, then once on his lips. ‘I’ve missed you. What’s up?’ he squeezes her to him, kissing the crown of her head.

‘You want to help me with the egg hunt?’ she asks. ‘Please?’

‘Yeah, ‘course, Sweetheart,’ he turns to pass the BBQ tongs to Justin, ‘Over to you, J’.

Tess leads him inside the house and into their butler’s pantry. It’s beyond ridiculous, but every time he enters their pantry he’s thankful for this little haven that so wonderfully hides their kitchen clutter. Try as he might though, he can never keep it tidy. It’s a dumping ground for all Moir mess. 

‘I’m sure I put the Easter eggs in here. They’re in a Loblaw’s bag. There are four packets of a dozen eggs, you know, the ones that are about the size of normal eggs,’ Tess says absentmindedly as she shifts packets of cereal around the top shelf. She’s standing on a stool and her gorgeous backside is right at his eyeline. He can’t help but run his hands over her ass.

‘Not helpful, Moir,’ she playfully chastises, ‘less looking at my ass and more looking for these eggs’.

‘But it’s such a great ass,’ he teases. 

They ferret around for a minute or two but come up empty handed. 

‘Did you put them in our closet?’ he suggests.

‘Maybe. It’s worth a shot,’ Tess shrugs. 

Thirty seconds into searching their walk-in closet he hands Tess two Loblaw’s bags. One with the four dozen eggs for this afternoon’s hunt and one filled with eggs for the their family.

‘That was easier than I expected,’ he laughs. 

‘Thank fuck. I’d completely forgotten I’d put them in here. Pop this one on the chair please, my love. Those are the eggs the Easter Bunny is going to deliver to our kids overnight,’ Tess passes one of the bags back to him.

‘Do you think this’ll be the last year Oli believes in the Easter Bunny?’ he muses as he looks at each of the eggs that Tess carefully chose for their brood, plus a selection of mini eggs to leave a trail around the house. He gives Tess a sad pout. 

‘You gettin’ your heart broken over there, Daddy?’ Tess teases him.

‘You suck,’ he jests, ‘but yeah, I’m a bit sad, the kids are getting so big. I loved the stage where they all believed in Santa and the Easter Bunny’. And he means it. That stage of make-believe magic? So fucking awesome.

He puts the eggs back in the bag and positions the bag in a way that it’s contents can’t be seen. He drops onto the end of their bed and Tess climbs into his lap, her chest snuggled up against his. 

‘Can I tell you the things I love most about you?’ Tess enquires as she runs her fingers through his hair. He knows she’s doing it intentionally, it’s a calming technique he’s watched her use countless times on their kids. It’s working. 

He doesn’t answer her, instead takes her chin between his thumb and forefinger, bringing her mouth to his in a chaste kiss.

Tess gives her happy smile, the one which lights up her eyes and makes his heart buzz. She’s cute as fuck, more so in her forties than she was in her twenties. She loops her arms around his neck and shrugs her shoulders in that adorable way he loves.

‘The two things I love about you most are your legs. Your right leg and your left leg’.

‘What?’ He’s so confused right now.

‘Your legs. They’re the money makers, they got me my Olympic medals. Definitely your best assets’. 

He looks at Tess, dead in the eyes and speaks very slowly, ‘That’s your attempt to cheer up the father of your children while he’s sad because your family dynamics are evolving and your co-created mini-humans are becoming independent?’

‘Pretty much, yep,’ Tess answers with a smirk.

‘You’re lucky I’m so in love with you, because your sense of comedic timing is atrocious. Way to misread the room, Virtch’.

Tess jumps up off his lap and studies his face for a moment. 

‘Oh my God, you’re really not happy with me,’ she says in a rush, cupping his face and kissing his mouth. ‘I’m sorry, I was teasing, I didn’t mean to upset you. Of course it’s OK to stop and appreciate that our kids are getting bigger’.

He continues to look at Tess and doesn’t think his expression changes in the slightest. But something gives him away and she’s on to him in an instant.

‘Oh, for fuck’s sake, I can’t believe I fell for...’ Tess starts. 

‘... my consummate performance skills?’ he interrupts his wife and gives a wink. 

Tess bursts out laughing.

‘I think you’ll find it was those performance skills, coupled with my money making legs, that got you your medals’. 

‘You’re the absolute worst,’ Tess wheezes out between laughs.

‘On the contrary, Tessa Jane,’ he scoops her up by her waist and throws her in the air, catching her under her arms, ‘we’ve got a cupboard full of medals that prove otherwise’.

*

After a long afternoon of socialising with their friends, which turned into a long evening of socialising with their friends, she’s never been happier to kiss her kids goodnight. 

On reflection that is definitely an exaggeration. But still, she’s bone tired, and the idea of their kids being safely in bed brings a sigh of relief. Even the older two, at thirteen and eleven, were happy to head off for a shower and to turn in for the night. 

She and Scott work as an efficient team to tidy up. Which is pretty impressive given they’re both a teeny bit tipsy. Well, probably moderately drunk if truth be told, unexpectedly drunk, it snuck up on them, they both realised the effects of the evening’s wine with a shared look as they stood up from the dining table to say goodbye to their guests. They’re comfortably buzzed, but still able to act sober for their kids. 

Once they giggle their way through cleaning the kitchen, stopping for an occasional dance to their early 90’s playlist (bit of Salt n Pepper, bit of En Vogue, bit of C&C Music Factory) they make their way upstairs. Scott checks on the kids while she has a quick shower to wash off all the sunscreen which had accumulated on her limbs over the preceding hours. 

Exiting their bathroom she finds Scott on the armchair in the corner of their bedroom scrolling on his iPad. The bag of Easter eggs placed carefully beside the chair. Shit. They mustn’t forget to deliver the Easter Bunny eggs to the kids tonight, she reminds herself.

‘You’re naked,’ her husband smirks after he glances up and catches her eye. 

‘Ah, yes. And Naked Tessa is one of your favourite Tessas. This, I know well’. She stands up a little straighter and tosses her hair around in a showy, dramatic fashion before she stumbles into the corner of the bed. 

‘Shit. How drunk are you?’ Scott laughs.

‘Not too drunk for whatever you have in mind,’ she laughs back. ‘How drunk are YOU?’

‘Drunker than that time you dropped the gas bottle on my foot but way less drunk than the time Justin and I spilled red wine on your Louboutins’. 

‘But drunk enough to bring up the gas bottle incident, which we both decided to lock inside the Virtue Moir Vault of Unspoken Misadventures,’ she huffs.

Scott merely raises his eyebrows in response. 

‘Ugh, I still feel terrible about that. I broke your talus!’ she says with an uncoordinated display of verbal and physical exasperation. She plonks herself on the end of the bed. 

Still naked.

‘Tess,’ Scott rolls his eyes, ‘It was an accident. An accident that occurred ten years ago. Although I’m very impressed you still remember exactly what bone it was, ‘cause I sure as hell didn’t’.

‘You needed surgery on your foot!’

He places the iPad on the floor and lifts himself out of the chair. He walks right up into her space, shucking off his shorts and t-shirt as he goes. 

‘Please stop talking,’ he requests as he stands between her legs. 

‘I’m sorry about you foot,’ she mumbles. 

He clumsily grabs her face and whispers, ‘I don’t care about my foot’.

She might be a little drunk but she still has her wits bout her. She reaches out her hand and tugs Scott to her before gently kissing his mouth. ‘Shut the bedroom door before we get started’.

*  
His wife smells so fucking good after she’s had a shower. Of course, she always smells good, but straight after a shower? She’s all citrusy-smelling goodness. It envelopes him in a thousand post shower sex memories, curls around him in a heady mix of familiarity. 

Tess is laying next to him on their bed, she has one hand in his hair and the other between his legs. The hand between his legs encircles his cock, her thumb teasing the tip like she has a thousand times before. Still feels amazing.

Holy fuck, he wants her. 

Now. 

He rolls on top of her, his mouth by her ear, ‘You ready?’ 

‘Not just yet,’ Tess shakes her head. 

‘Tell me what you need,’ he encourages, moving to kneel between her legs and leaning forward to pave a row of kisses across her ribcage.

‘Your mouth, on my back,’ Tess flips onto her stomach. 

‘Hmmmmm,’ he moans as he runs his hand over her shoulders and down her spine. ‘I think we can probably do better than that’.

He kisses down her back and over her ass, making his way to her thighs. ‘Hands and knees, please Sweetheart,’ he requests. Tess complies immediately, spreading her legs slightly because she knows exactly why he’s asking. 

‘So good,’ she whimpers as he puts his mouth to her pussy. ‘Don’t stop yet, please, not yet’.

He has no intention of stopping yet, the alcohol means he’s only just begun to find a rhythm with his tongue but Tess unexpectedly pulls away. 

‘Change of plan,’ she asserts, still on her hands and knees.

‘Which is?’ he asks as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. 

‘Fucking. Right now. I’m ready’.

This makes him laugh, ‘What? You just said you weren’t? You are stupidly bossy when you’re drunk’.

‘Don’t care. Your mouth helped. Fucking. Please?’ The way she says ‘please’ is so genuinely sweet he can’t help but surge forward and kiss her delicately between her shoulder blades. 

‘Nice and slow?’ Tess whispers over her shoulder. ‘Like this?’ 

‘Yeah,’ he grabs her hips and kneels between her legs, lining them up, ‘OK?’ Tess looks over her shoulder again and nods. 

‘I love you,’ he sighs as he inches into her. She’s so warm and wet and perfect. 

‘Me too. You’re a good man,’ Tess grinds backwards making him gasp. 

That. 

Feels. 

So. 

Good. 

‘Seventy-three percent of the time,’ she jokes, turning her head to look over her shoulder for a third time, giving him a cheeky wink. 

‘Well look at that,’ he laughs as his draws her hips towards him and pushes his own forward, ‘Seventy-three percent, eh? I’m improving’.

*

When she wakes it’s to the sound of Ashlynn yelling and the realisation that both she and Scott naked. The nakedness would be a complete non-issue, except it reflects the fact that they both fell asleep tangled in each other’s arms straight after sex. Which, again, would be an absolute non-issue but for the fact that the Loblaw’s bag on the bedroom floor means that they completely forgot to deliver the kids’ Easter Bunny eggs. 

HOLY FUCKING SHITBALLS TO THE POWER OF INFINITY.

She assumes this is the reason Ashlynn is so incredibly distressed. 

Fuckity, fuck, fuck, fuck. 

In the millisecond it takes her to process all that information Scott is out of bed and dragging on his pyjama pants.

‘Up, up, Virtch,’ he instructs in a whisper, ‘we have to work an Easter miracle to get those fucking eggs out of the Loblaw’s bag and into the hands of the kids’. 

‘Yep,’ she nods and exits the bed to throw on her dressing gown.

She can hear the muffled voices of their boys talking to Ashlynn as all four of the kids make their way to their parents’ bedroom. 

‘Right,’ states Scott, clearly having gone into crisis management mode, ‘you stay here with the littlest two, I’ll take the eggs, Tom and James. The older two can help me create an egg hunt downstairs’.

‘Good plan,’ she affirms, thinking that she’s never loved him more than in this moment. She’s so glad Tom and James are old enough to know the truth about the Easter Bunny. She exhales and puts on her game face. 

Scott unlocks and opens their bedroom door at just the right time to seamlessly allow all four kids to barrel into the room. 

‘Whats going on? Why all the noise?’ she channels her best on-ice acting skills.

Ashy is taking huge, heartbreaking gulpy breathes. The mother guilt is hurting her heart. Christ on a pogo stick, they majorly stuffed up. This is definitely their most spectacular parenting fail to date. 

Ashlynn is not in a fit state to speak so Oliver answers her questions in the saddest, most disappointed little voice, ‘Momma, we think the Easter Bunny forgot about us’. Oli hasn’t called her Momma since he... well, she can’t even remember when.

She reaches forward and scoops up Ash and Oli, one in each arm, they snuggle into her chest as she mouths over their shoulders, ‘Fix this!’ to their father and older brothers. The three of them exit the room with the God-forsaken Loblaw’s bag and she kisses the younger two on the crown of their heads. 

‘You know, this has happened before,’ she lies through her teeth.

Both Ash and Oli’s heads fly up from her chest, their gorgeous little faces meeting her eyes. 

‘What?’ demands Oli. He has unshed tears in his big brown eyes. 

‘When?’ implores Ash. She tries to ignore the tear tracks etched down her daughter’s face. 

‘When I was a little girl,’ she deceives her children. 

‘Really?’ Ash bounces on her toes. 

‘It did. We thought the Easter Bunny had forgotten us but it turned out...’ her lie is drowned out by the sound of Scott calling from downstairs. 

‘Ash! Oli! Mommy! Quick! Come downstairs!’ he shouts. 

Before she even has a chance to encourage them Ash and Oli are out the door. She follows them into the hallway and sees Scott, Tom and Jamie downstairs with mini Easter eggs in their hands.

‘Mom, there are eggs downstairs!’ shouts Tom. 

Ash turns to her from where she’s standing on the bottom step, ‘The Easter Bunny didn’t forget us,’ she squeals, jumping into her father’s arms. Scott reaches out and ruffles Oli’s hair. 

‘Oh,’ scoffs Scott, ‘the Easter Bunny would never forget Team Moir’. 

This makes her laugh out loud. 

With relief. 

With joy. 

With gratitude. 

‘Right, Mommy?’ Scott smiles. 

‘Absolutely not,’ she says with conviction. 

She skips down the stairs to join her family. When she gets to the bottom Ash and Oli dash away, Scott hot on their heels, off to follow the trial of mini eggs. Tom and James hang back, watching their younger siblings. She kisses her older boys on their cheeks, ‘Good men,’ she congratulates them, ‘Dad and I are grateful for your help’. 

‘You’re terrible parents,’ jokes Tom.

‘Fair call,’ she laughs. 

‘But we still love you!’ James affirms. 

‘Thanks Jamie, your generosity is appreciated,’ she draws him to her chest and squeezes him tight. At that moment Scott looks up at her from where he’s sitting on the loungeroom floor admiring the eggs that Ash and Oli are proudly showing him. She’s filled that overwhelming but familiar sense of love for him. He’s such a good man. So steady and kind and affectionate.

‘Love you,’ he mouths to her.

‘I know,’ she mouths back.

And she does, she really, really does. 

*

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it!  
> 💕💕💕💕💕


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